


Neveras Remembrance

by Astro_Break



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Don't actually use this team comp in game please, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Light Angst, Major Character Injury, POV Alternating, POV Third Person Limited, can be read as platonic or romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 17:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19178326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astro_Break/pseuds/Astro_Break
Summary: An unfortunate accident while adventuring makes B-52 rethink his life choices





	Neveras Remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> Lmao that summary is awful and does not sum the story up at all. Do not be fooled. It's just angst. I'm sorry.
> 
> This was written at 1:30 so it's not very good but it's the best I have. Enjoy

The Spector let out a horrible screech, it's rage vibrating along the mountain range. Brownie winced, the sound rattling his eardrums. He's not the only one. Andre caws in pain, rising up into the air in a futile attempt to preserve his sharp hearing. Vodka herself appears a bit disoriented, shaking her head occasionally. Tiramisu and Sweet Tofu frantically healed their teammates. However, the warmth they provided were quickly eaten up by the accompanying Spectra's harsh winds. A rattle of chains burst from the ground, wrapping B-52's graceful form up in its wicked embrace, dragging the Food Soul down with an ugly crash. The landscape itself was unforgiving, frozen water lashing at every bit of exposed skin. They had to end this. Fast.

Brownie grit his teeth, leaning back to charge up his weapon, hearing the comforting whirr of the machine. If he could take them out with one shot… Steadying his cannon, Brownie leaped into the air, the weapon firing a quick succession of deadly projectiles. Watching them slam into the body on the Spector, Brownie allowed himself a moment of satisfaction, before feeling something wrong. Really wrong.

His gut clenched as the Butler leaned over, retching. His teal eyes blurrily made our the chain that had been impaled through his chest.

Oh.

The chain yanked his body forward, coated in his own blood, as Brownie's vision began to blur. The last coherent thing he registered was B-52's panicked cries, before he face-planted into the snow, the cold crawling over his unresponsive body.

\---

B-52 watched in shock as Brownie crumpled to the snowy ground in a heap without any of his usual grace. His chest hurt as if someone had forcefully compacted it into a tiny box. Letting out a cry of anguish, B-52 turned on the Spectra, wand up and gears turning.

“You'll pay for that.” He spat venomously, taking to the skies once again. His wings creaked in protest, but the cocktail staunchly ignored it, launching attack after attack. The fallen would pay.

After what seemed like a lifetime, the Spectra wailed in defeat before vanishing from existence. B-52 didn't care. The moment the Spectra had poofed, he was already running, well the flying equivalent to running, as fast as he could towards his fallen partner.

The soft snow cushioned his impact as B-52 dropped to the ground beside him. Gently lifting Brownie's unconscious body onto his lap, B-52 brushed snow off his peaceful face. “Hey.” He whispered, lightly shaking the other's shoulders. “Wake up, Brownie. We did it. We beat them.”

The Butler like food soul remained in a deep unconsciousness, oblivious to his partner's distress and panic.

“Brownie.” B-52 tried again, louder. “Wake up. Come on Brownie. This isn't fair. Wake up.” Hot tears of frustration rolled down his cheeks, some falling onto his partner's chilled skin. A part of B-52 expected Brownie to wake up, just like he'd seen in the movies Master Attendant forced all their food souls to watch. But alas, Brownie's eyes stayed shut, showing no signs of consciousness. 

A gentle hand on his shoulder directed B-52's attention towards Tiramisu. She had a tired smile on her face but knelt down beside the other, hands already busy trying to heal Brownie. 

B-52 swallowed down a lump of fear, watching the healer work her magic. “Is.. is he going to be alright?” He croaked, one hand absentmindedly bruising stray hairs and snow clumps out of the way.

“He'll need some rest, but he's going to make a full recovery.” Tiramisu replied, a strained smile plastered in place. B-52 was no fool, however, and could see the sweat and exhaustion beading on her forehead. Instead of commenting on it though, he simply just nodded and hoped.


End file.
